


What Would Peter Do?

by Talar



Category: American Vandal (TV)
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Peter has a cat, Sam and Peter blame tumblr too, i don't know how tags work but you clicked so it's your problem not mine, they are both dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:50:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talar/pseuds/Talar
Summary: Sam was staring at his computer screen, scrolling through posts on Tumblr posted by "paldonado". He'd mock his best friend for the absolute lack of originality choosing a URL if it wasn't for the content of his blog.There were dozens of these posts, dated all the way back to 2014 up until early 2018, detailing a crush on a certain friend. One that Peter's apparently making a doc with, who he'd met when they were both 10, who was definitely Sam Ecklund.Shit.





	What Would Peter Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay!!! I wrote this thing over the course of like, two hours, so it's not good by any means. sorry lmao  
> HOWEVER this is the very first time I'm posting a thing I wrote but I felt like I needed to since we only have 21 fics??? not cool +note that English isn't my first language so sorry if it's kinda broken  
> anyways I hope you'll enjoy this thing!!!

Usually, when Sam was faced with emotional problems like the one at hand, he'd ask himself, "What would Peter do?". Peter was always driven by logic, which made him the one who'd solve every emotional conflict in moments. He'd see everything as a pile of facts that should be sorted and connected to find the best possible solution, whereas Sam was the one to see the emotional background of every fact. Peter would make it all much simpler.

However, Sam had absolutely no idea what would Peter do now, and he absolutely  _couldn't_  ask for his input.

He was staring at his computer screen, scrolling through posts on Tumblr posted by "paldonado". He'd mock his best friend for the absolute lack of originality choosing a URL if it wasn't for the content of his blog.

 

_Post posted on March 21st, 2016:  
_

**Paldonado**

I have absolutely no clue how I'm supposed to be making a doc w/him when he still has no idea I like him??? help pls

#peter rambling #not film related #i really can't handle him knowing

 

There were dozens of these posts, dated all the way back to 2014 up until early 2018, detailing a crush on a certain friend. One that Peter's apparently making a doc with, who he'd met when they were both 10, who was definitely Sam Ecklund.

Shit.

They came back from Bellevue a bit more than three months ago, and Peter had been cranky ever since. They'd already fought and made up four times, and Sam wasn't too worried; Netflix was currently finishing editing American Vandal Season 2 and was beginning to release teaser trailers and such, so Sam assumed it was just his way of coping with the pressure.

But now, as he had accidentally found this blog which had exactly 27 followers (excluding 5 porn bots), he couldn't help himself but wonder,  _what the fuck?_

But what would Peter do with this information? What would Peter do if he'd found that someone had a Tumblr blog in which they were confessing their love to him? How would Peter react? Would he be angry, curious or thrilled? Would he be as confused as Sam was right now?

"Ugh," Sam grunted, shutting his laptop down. He wanted to sleep for the next 20 years and not wake up until Peter was married or something. It's not that he wasn't at least a bit interested, it was just that it was a surprise. It wasn't how he'd like to find out about this kind of shit.

Almost on cue, Sam's phone beeped.

 **PM:**  movie night at mine?

Sam read the message twelve times as if it was Chinese and he had no idea what was written. Movie nights were a thing they did for years, and they never,  _ever_ , canceled it, but Sam knew he couldn't face Peter right now.

 **SE:**  can't today, see u tomorrow?

He wasn't even in the mood to read Peter's reply, so he shut his phone off too.

Everything sucked.

\---

Ever since Sam found that blog, he started noticing stuff. They weren't new, but he simply didn't think too much about them before, like the way Peter looked at him as he spoke, or the way he'd been constantly fumbling with the sleeves of his way too big hoodie and blushing whenever Sam said anything nice about him.

With every new thing he'd notice about Peter, he'd notice something new about himself, too. He learned that touching Peter, even in the most innocent of ways, made his skin tingle, and that watching Peter talk about his crappy indie films was one of the most beautiful things ever. Sam's insides were melting every time Peter stared at Sam with a shy smile when he thought Sam hadn't noticed, and it wasn't butterflies in his stomach, more like a fucking rollercoaster.

They both sat on Peter's couch, only his cat Lebowski separating them. Sam was mindlessly running his hands on the fat cat's fur as he and Peter watched Fight Club. It was the first movie night after the one Sam missed, and they weren't really speaking ever since. They did send snaps to one another, liked each other's (mostly Sam's) Instagram posts and talked to one another in and out of school, but they didn't have an actual conversation yet.

Both of them felt that tension.

"Sam," Peter started quietly. "What happened last time?"

"Like, in Fight Club?"

"No, dumbass, I'm talking about last movie night when you bailed. Did anything happen?" Peter asked, turning to Sam who was staring at Lebowski's fur as if it was the most important thing in the universe.

"Sort of. Yeah. No. I don't know." Sam mumbled. "I had some shit on my mind and wasn't really in the mood to see anyone ever. Sorry for bailing."

"That's okay. I get it. Just… I was worried," Peter looked away and fumbled with his sleeves. Sam looked up at him, his heart stopping for a moment.

He knew Peter for so long, he almost forgot how beautiful he was. The room was dark except for the television screen, and the light was illuminating his face beautifully. He looked like an angel. The dorkiest angel ever, but an angel nonetheless.

"Pete," Sam said, almost in a whisper. He had no reason to be silent, but it felt like he should have, so he did. He knew the words he  _wanted_  to say. He knew he wanted to tell Peter he liked him, too. His mouth, however, had a completely different plan. "Lebowski's so fucking fat. What're you feeding him? Burgers?"

Peter laughed and playfully shoved his best friend's shoulder, while Sam felt like the biggest idiot that has ever walked upon the face of the earth.

Shortly after, the movie ended and Sam left. If he was confused before, now he was absolutely baffled. He knew exactly two people who could make him feel better, but one f them was out of the equation. That left him only one choice.

"I need you, Gabs," Sam told his other best friend the moment she picked the phone up. She left for Berkeley last month, so they had next to no time at all to talk. She was still the kindest person ever, though, so she was still there to listen to him talk.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly.

"I think I like Peter. Like, like-like Peter." He admitted.

Then, Gabi laughed. It wasn't a giggle or anything like that, it was a full-on throaty laughter, as if his confession was the funniest thing she ever heard.

"What's so funny? I hate you," He said as she started panting from laughter.

"It's just… oh my god, Sam, I can't believe you didn't notice the way  _you_  looked at him. You know that Dylan Maxwell called me last month to ask when did you two start dating so he can send you chocolates on that date?"

"Shit." Sam said, a tiny grin appearing on his face. "Do I really look at him like that? All sappy and everything?"

"Yeah." She told him, and he could hear her smiling widely. "Tell him. He likes you too."

"I know," he sighed. "I know."

\---

Peter showed up on Sam's doorstep exactly 12 minutes after he hung up. Sam told him to come over as soon as possible, and he sounded distressed.

He stopped knocking before he entered Sam's house back in 7th grade, when Mr. Ecklund told Peter he was almost his second son. Peter entered the house, and Sam was waiting for him on the couch.

"Paldonado, that's why I bailed on you at our movie night. Paldonado." Sam said quietly but firmly, and Peter froze. He could feel the blood draining from his face, and suddenly he couldn't move. Everything good in his life was facing a death sentence.

Paldonado was his only place where he expressed his thoughts on Sam, the only place he shared how much he was in love with him for the last four years. He wrote there on numerous occasions how he'd die if Sam found that account, because he knew Sam could never feel the same. Ever.

But now everything was out.

"I'm sorry-" Peter started, but Sam just shook his head with a tiny smile.

"Don't be." He said, standing in front of him. "I mean, you  _should_  be sorry for calling yourself fucking 'Paldonado' of all names, where's your creativity? Is it dead?"

"I was fourteen," Peter defended himself but Sam laughed fondly.

"You should still feel bad about that one part, but other than that? Nah, I…" Sam began, but then stopped. His fake confidence broke for a moment, and he looked like a kid that ate a chocolate cake he wasn't supposed to. "I like you too."

"Like, like-like?"

"Yeah, like-like." Sam admitted sheepishly.

They were both standing there, two feet apart, staring at each other. Neither of them moved, until Sam started laughing quietly. "Will you ever fucking kiss me, jerk?"

That was all Peter needed to break the space between them and kiss his best friend-  _Boyfriend?_ \- passionately. Sam did what he thought Peter would do- he kissed Peter back.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh sorry for that one. follow me on tumblr for more lame ass shitposting @oiveyzmir !!!!


End file.
